


Deorum Cibus Est

by Daegaer



Series: Burning Rome [7]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: 1st Century CE, Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient Religions, Ancient Rome, Gen, Psychic Abilities, Ritual Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Nero's Rome, a small group of young men with strange abilities seek to make a living - and to find revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deorum Cibus Est

**Author's Note:**

> The title means "It is food for the gods."

"Grant me," Caratacus said, "a vision, all you gods of my people. Give me something I can use as a weapon against Rome, here in Rome." He slit the lamb's throat and then opened its belly while it still kicked, pulling out the gleaming viscera and neatly removing the liver, at which he peered short-sightedly.

Sesithacus stood back, keeping an eye both on Caratacus, red now to the elbows, and Februus, whose avid attention on the proceedings was that of a mastiff trained for war who hears the calls to arms. Sanagi yawned, politely covering his mouth with his little hand and looked upwards, as if expecting to see gods leaning down for a sniff of the sacrifice. With all his heart, Sesithacus wished to be far from all of them.

"Well?" Februus said, as Caratacus turned the liver over in his hands, glaring at it like it was a disobedient child. "What do they say?"

"They say they want a better victim," Caratacus said in frustration. "They will not give me an answer for one mere lamb."

"That's gods for you," Februus said. "Greedy. How many do they want? Children or adults?"

"Wait, what?" Sesithacus said. "We can't –"

Caratacus and Februus looked at him in irritation.

"Do the gods of the Teutons have no taste for such sacrifice?" Caratacus said. "They would be strange gods not to."

"No – I mean, well, yes, of course, but not for a man's personal desires," Sesithacus said. "Only in times of great need, when the people must seek help in extremity." He glowered at the expression of smug condescension that came over Caratacus' face, as if the man had won some point in the endless debates the Romans favoured. He reached out, listening to the Briton's thoughts, and found the same self-assured sense of victory there as well. " _What?_ " he snapped.

"Is this not a time of great need for my people?" Caratacus said. "Do we not need to regain our honour? The Romans must pay for what they did, and pay in full. If you tell me your people don't see the value in revenge I'll laugh at you as a liar. I will give the gods what they want, and they will tell me what I need to know, so that my people can have their revenge." He smiled, quite kindly, pushing back his hair with a bloody hand. "You aren't going to deny you understand revenge?"

"No," Sesithacus, muttered, although from what Caratacus had told him of Britain, it seemed like the queen he revered had taken revenge against the Romans enough for several lifetimes before she had killed herself to evade capture. "I understand it. Even Sanagi does – don't you?" he said as the boy crouched down to pick up a striped pebble that had caught his eye.

"It is a rare and singular god that turns his face from vengeance," Sanagi said in a bored voice, "but you are seeking the aid of Caratacus' gods, and he says they enjoy it whole-heartedly."

"So you'd give them what they want?" Sesithacus said, unsure why he needled at the boy.

"I am far from home. I'll do what I must to get back," Sanagi said, rolling the pebble between his fingers. Apparently satisfied, he dropped it into the small pouch at his belt and stood up. "Feed your gods, Caratacus, we must all do what we must."

* * *

 

That night Sesithacus awoke as a hand grasped his shoulder, shaking him.

"Get up," Februus said quietly. "We're going hunting."

"Leave me out of this," Sesithacus said, and turned over, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He sat up in rage as Februus pulled it from him and threw it on the floor, leaving him naked in the night air. "Haljō take you, you madman, I said I'm not going."

"Up," Februus said implacably. "Wear clothes or don't, it's up to you, but you're coming." He bent over Sesithacus, smiling pleasantly. "Caratacus has promised me some killing tonight, and you are delaying us. You do not want to be making me impatient, do you?"

"Why do you follow him? He's not even a priest of your gods," Sesithacus muttered, pulling his tunic over his head.

"It's true he's not much of a druid if you put him beside the druids of Ulaidh," Februus said, throwing him his cloak, "but he's what we have. And he's promised me as much spilling of blood as I want. That's worth being in this shithole of a city for. Come on."

It wasn't difficult to leave the house unseen; Sesithacus thought hard at the night watchman that he should go to check on the kitchens and he and Februus slipped past easily.

"Where are the others?" he whispered, thinking of the empty pallets in the room.

"Caratacus said he'd meet us outside," Februus said, linking his hands together to boost him up onto the wall. "Don't dawdle!"

They hurried down the street and saw a cloaked figure waiting at the corner. Februus loosened the knife in his belt as Sesithacus grabbed his wrist.

"Fool! It's Caratacus!"

"I am also here," Sanagi said, stepping away from the wall.

"We wouldn't leave you," Caratacus said to him.

"Of course not," Sesithacus said. "We could never creep about at night looking for sacrifices to your British gods without bringing little children along." Sanagi ignored him, which was better than attracting the attention of yet another madman, he decided. "What do you want us to do, Caratacus?" he said with poor grace.

"We walk. The sacrifice will make itself known."

They walked through the narrow, dark streets, all as blind as Caratacus in the night, Sesithacus thought as he stepped on an all too fresh turd that was too big for a dog's. _Filthy Romans and their filthy oily food_ , he thought, scraping his sandal on a step. At least anyone who might wish them harm did not approach, seeing three grown men together. Attackers would discount Sanagi, of course, at least until it was far too late to get away from him.

They had walked for what seemed to Sesithacus for hours when ahead of them a door opened, revealing a tavern. A young man, aged somewhere between Caratacus and himself, Sesithacus thought, came out, his hand on the shoulder of a boy a few years older than Sanagi. The boy carried a torch.

"Where to, sir?" the boy said, as Caratacus stiffened, like a hunting dog catching the scent.

"Him," Caratacus said in a low, hollow voice, and then, sounding more like himself, "Sesithacus, make him want to come with us."

"How – oh, yes, I'll try –"

 _You_ know _us_ , Sesithacus thought, as hard as he could. _You_ trust _us_.

"Friend," Caratacus said cheerfully, stepping forward, "It's good to see you! What are you doing with just a little link boy for company? Will you not share a drink with us?"

The man looked at them, swaying a little, and smiled in some confusion. "I have been in there," he said, gesturing at the tavern door, "drinking with some friends of my kinsman, but it's late –"

"Another cup of wine won't do any harm," Caratacus said, "and we will see you home after. Februus, pay this lad off." He smiled broadly at the boy and added something in British.

"A denarius?" Februus said smoothly, "if you're sure we can afford it – come here, lad –"

The boy went over eagerly and let himself be led away by Februus. Sesithacus kept his face still as he heard the soft scuffle and then Februus was back, smiling innocently.

"He's gone," Februus said. "Let's not go in there, it's too noisy."

"I must go to my father's estate tomorrow, I should go home," the man said, rubbing at his face. "You are kind to invite me, friends, but –"

"One drink," Caratacus said, "and I will send you on your way, I promise."

 _You trust us_ , Sesithacus thought. What did he owe this Roman? Maybe it was his shit staining Sesithacus' sandal.

The man visibly wavered, then nodded. "One drink – but your pardon, I cannot remember where we have met –"

"Was it not in Brittania?" Caratacus said, putting a friendly arm about the man's shoulders and steering him away from the tavern door.

"Oh!" The man's face cleared. "Of course! My friend, you have confused me with my kinsman, we look much alike – he fought under Suetonius Paulinus against the barbarians at Mona and the final battle of the traitress Boadicea."

Caratacus peered closely at him, as if he had just been handed a treasure beyond price. "Your kinsman was at Ynys Môn?" he said. "The gods have led you to me indeed. Come, come."

Sesithacus nudged Februus as they walked along. "What did he say to you?"

"I didn't learn much of the Britons' language when I left Hibernia," Februus said, "but I thought I should at least know the word for _kill_. No one will miss that boy, stop worrying."

"Maybe not, but this is a rich man," Sesithacus hissed. "Look at his tunic, the ring on his finger! Someone will ask questions about him, with his kinsman in the legions, and his kinsman's friends here in the city."

"What god is happy with a safe or a paltry gift?" Sanagi said quietly.

"None," Februus said. "They are like whores, all demanding the highest payment they can get for the least service they will give."

Sanagi let out an angry hiss of breath and stalked off, his back rigid, ahead of them.

"He's in one of his pious moods and you've offended him," Sesithacus said.

"I told him the truth and he is ashamed to look us in the face," Februus said in amusement.

Sesithacus shook his head. There was little point in trying to understand much of what Februus said, once he started speaking of the gods. He listened instead to Caratacus and the Roman, who were speaking of Britannia. Caratacus was encouraging the Roman to tell him stories of his kinsman's exploits, his replies sounding as if he were smiling affably.

" – hurling curses and spells at the legionaries," the man said, staggering, and needing to be held upright by Caratacus, "so that the water couldn't be crossed! Not just the druids, but druidesses too, wild-haired creatures, hags of witches calling down all manner of evil on our poor lads. Though when the island was finally taken they got just as fucked as any captive woman! They screamed in a different way then!" He laughed and hiccoughed.

"Yes," Caratacus said, in a suddenly bleak voice. "The women raped, and the boys. And the sacred groves –"

"What a _waste_ ," the Roman said. "D'you know, the Britons had all these perfectly good oak trees they could've sold us for ship-building? And they just – left them there. Sang pretty songs in them or something."

"All gone now," Caratacus said, his voice a thin layer of jollity over the bleakness as he clapped the Roman's shoulder like they were the closest of friends. "We're nearly there."

"We are? Where are we going? Oh –" the man looked back at Sesithacus and Februus blearily, "I never asked your names, friends. I am Gnaeus Vol-"

 _It doesn't matter_ , Sesithacus thought, _None of it matters_.

"I prefer to think of you solely as a representative of Rome," Caratacus said. "Ah, here is the spot. Is this not a pleasant quiet place on the river? We even have some trees to let us pretend we have come to the country."

Sesithacus looked about; the trees were not very big, but stood between them and the nearest buildings, which were not within easy earshot. They were perhaps warehouses, he thought, surely there would be night watchmen, although at least there were no houses or insulae near-by. Caratacus took a flask of wine from under his cloak and unstoppered it with a flourish.

"Let's drink."

He offered it to the Roman, who took a long pull, and then gasped a little, laughing breathlessly.

"This isn't watered at all! My head won't thank you for this drink, friend."

"Probably not," Caratacus said. "Here, have some of this to help soak it up –" He offered a small, flat cake studded with seeds. The Roman chewed at it, washing it down with another few mouthfuls of wine.

"This is heavy going, don't buy from this baker again," he mumbled.

"It's good food for a journey," Caratacus said.

"I'm not –"

Februus slammed a fist-sized stone into the side of the Roman's head, and he fell to his knees. He looked surprised more than anything else, Sesithacus thought, though that changed to terror as Februus swiftly looped a thin rope about his neck and twisted it tight. Caratacus threw his cloak back over his shoulder to give him freedom of movement, and drew a knife, watching the proceedings with interest.

"You're going on the longest journey of all, friend," he said as the Roman's struggles grew weaker. "Andraste! Hear me!" He stepped in and slashed the Roman's throat, stepping neatly to the side as blood sprayed out. The Roman went down, his body jerked once and was still. Caratacus stood there, his hands up-raised, speaking in his own language, and then he looked down at the body with grim satisfaction.

"The queen's name," he said, "was _Boudicca_." He looked up at the others. "He goes in the water."

"Will your gods and the river god fight over him?" Sanagi asked. Without waiting for a reply he gestured and the man's body lifted from the ground and moved to the water, sinking beneath the surface as if it were a rock. "There is a shelf of stone under the water," Sanagi said, his eyes fixed on nothing that Sesithacus could see. "I will put him under there." He hunkered down and touched the surface of the river with one thin finger, his face bearing an expression of the most intense interest Sesithacus could remember him ever displaying.

"There are things coming to look at him."

"Fish," Sesithacus said.

"No," Sanagi said, with a wistful tone that made Sesithacus shudder.

Caratacus put a hand on Sesithacus' shoulder, making him jump. The Briton grinned, pushing his unkempt hair back from his eyes.

"You're as skittish as a young girl. We can go now, you can get back to sleep."

"Have your gods given you a message yet?" Sesithacus asked.

"Not yet," Caratacus said. "Perhaps they want that man's kinsman as well, the one who was on Ynys Môn, but the sacrifice was a good one – a wealthy man, once who'd never worked a day in his life – did you see his soft hands? – and richly arrayed with good clothing and jewelry. Not that the Romans know what jewelry is. Let us wait on the gods, Sesithacus, their time is not like ours."

The gods answered, Sesithacus thought, all too quickly. They were half-way home when Caratacus gasped and steadied himself against a wall, his other hand tight across his eyes as if even the darkness was too bright for him to bear. He made a sound of pain and doubled over, going down before Sesithacus could catch him. He was rigid in agony, with no sense at all in his face as he gasped a few broken words, then slumped into silence. Sesithacus hoped Februus hadn't heard such weak sounds, given he spoke a little of the language. Weakness was not something to display in front of him. For himself, he resolved to forget it. He knew nothing of Caratacus' language and didn't know what he had said, no matter what it had sounded like. And when Caratacus was well again – well, no man liked to think he had called for his mother.

"Help me carry him," he said, and Februus helped him get Caratacus up and between them they carried him along. "Sanagi," Sesithacus panted, "help us."

Sanagi sighed in the darkness, but then Caratacus became a feather-weight, easily and lightly moved. He was walking under his own power by the time they were back at the house, although he looked at the wall with dull misery.

"I'm going through the damned gate," he said. "I'll say I was observing the stars."

"We were all observing the stars," Sanagi said. "Sesithacus can make the doorman think that."

It was easy enough, and Sesithacus was glad to drop back onto his mattress. He looked sleepily up at the ceiling, noting that he could see it and it would soon be time to get up for the day. He looked around the room. Februus sat cross-legged on his bed, humming cheerfully, satisfied with his tally of death for the night, while Caratacus lay silently, his face covered by a fold of his cloak. Sanagi knelt on his bed, watching him.

 

* * *

 

The sun was fully risen when Caratacus stood up. His face still bore the marks of pain, but he seemed elated.

"Does anyone know of a land called Armenia?" he said.

They all looked at him quizzically.

"The gods have given me news of this unknown land – it's important to the Romans and their enemies. Accurate information will bring us nearer what we seek. Let us go and speak to our employer."

Sesithacus flattened his hair into order with his hands and hoped that they would not have to travel to this new land, wherever it might be. Rome was far enough from home for him, he thought. He followed Caratacus and waited while the crowd of Silvius' clients paid their morning respects and he was finally free to listen to such lowly people as mere foreign employees.

"Silvius, the gods have sent me a warning of import for all of Rome," Caratacus said, "if you heed it, you, your family and the people of Rome will have great profit."

Silvius looked at him in alarm. "Are you sure?"

"Never surer – listen to my words: the Senate think that Armenia is won for Rome, but General Paetus has been lying in his dispatches. He has lost his battles, General Corbulo has refused to support him and the Parthians have looted and routed the legions. Rome has built triumphal arches to celebrate its generals' victories but what are these victories? Soon a Parthian embassy will arrive to demand that Rome give up all claim to the land of Armenia, and you will have nothing but a shameful peace. Plan now, or be shamed then."

Silvius stared at him, open-mouthed. "But –" he said. "But if the Parthians have taken Armenia they could invade Syria or Cappadocia – they'd have easy access to the Euxine Sea -" He sat back in his chair. "How do you know this?"

"The gods are not constrained by distance," Caratacus said loftily. "Do not waste time by asking yourself if I am right, Silvius, ask yourself instead if you have ever known me to be _wrong_."

Silvius stood. "I must go at once with this news and –"

"One moment," Caratacus said. "You will bring this news where it needs to go, and as a man of standing and good name, you must impress on those above you that I am a true prophet, that the gods have truly spoken to me. Let them carry the news as high as it will go, and I promise you, Silvius, your name will not be forgotten. You will gain reward for alerting Rome so that the Parthians do not bring shame as a complete surprise. But after that a person of higher standing will require our services, so you must release us that we may go to him."

"Yes," Silvius said, looking in something like awe at Caratacus. "Now, I must go." He left at as close to a run as his dignity would allow.

"Where are Syria and Cappadocia?" Februus said.

Caratacus shrugged. "Who knows? Let's pack up our things."

"Where are we going now? Who's going to be our new employer?" Sesithacus asked, hoping that they were not exchanging a good position for a worse one.

Caratacus smiled cheerfully on them all. "The emperor. I told you we were going to aim high."

 


End file.
